Hate
by Simone Landon
Summary: A trio of snapshots: one scene, three viewpoints. Bakura-Tristan-Ryou.
1. Tristan: Right

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to Kazuki Takahashi.

Whew. I'm tired--you two wore me out.

I hate that.

I don't hate Ryou--why would I? He's one of the nicest guys I know, a change from the people Joey and I usually hang out with. One I like. He's always been a good friend....And those times he hasn't, well...can't say I'd have done much differently. So I can't--won't--blame him. You can be a persuasive bastard, when you try.

You're the one I hate.

I don't know if you have a name--you haven't told, I'm not asking, and Ryou can talk to you without needing any terms. And when he talks about you you're just 'the spirit' or 'my other.'

I hate it when he uses that term. I hate how you've made him think you're a part of him, that you have some kind of right to be in his life, to take it over, to own everything he has....

...'Own.' Fuck. I hate everything about you, and you don't own me.

And one of these days, you won't own Ryou either. I'm working on that. You don't control him as much as you think.

I hate that you have any control over him, though. I hate the way he tries to play mediator, the way he lets himself be pulled into the middle of us. I hate the way he sometimes takes your side, even if he's just trying to spare me from your anger. I hate the way you know how to manipulate him to do that.

I hate the way you know him.

I hate the way you know just what he likes, how you know where to touch him in order to make him moan and immediately spread his legs. The way you make him think that he's a slut, and the way that he believes you, no matter what I say. It's there in his eyes when we fall asleep here.

I hate the way you walk through his mind--like it's your possession, like you've got some right to be there--and how you've learned to do the same to me.

I really hate you for that.

And I hate sharing Bakura with you. I hate how I can never touch him, can't even look at him in class, without you being there, somewhere, whether it's on the inside or the outside. I hate the way you're constantly there.

And I hate that I accepted that. That I traded all this humiliation for a chance with Ryou.

You've gotta know how much we loathe you. Ryou was nearly asleep, curled on his side facing you, and when I reached out to pull him over to me he whimpered and tensed--that's how much you aren't wanted here. As soon as I told him it was me, he relaxed and smiled slightly, eyes still closed in sleep. I love the way he looks like that.

I'd trade again, too. That's what I really hate. It's not Ryou's fault--he can't get away from you. But I'm working on that.

And until then, I'll stay. I'll be your bitch for moments like these, with Ryou asleep next to me and you on the other side of the bed. Away from us. And one of these days you'll be gone entirely. Even though when you touch me I want to kill you, I'll wait for the day you get destroyed by Yami.

But still....

I hate what I've become.


	2. Ryou: Middle

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to Kazuki Takahashi.

Mmm...I'm tired. You two wore me out again.

I hate that.

I hate the way I can think like that. I don't mean to, but it just...happened, one day. I finally realized I don't care about either of you.

I used to, though. I hate that I changed.

But...I hate a lot of things about this 'arrangement.' So I guess this is nothing new.

I'm not sure why this happened in the first place. Something just went wrong, I guess. Very, very wrong. Or maybe everything went exactly the way it was going to, and I just didn't realize that these would be the consequences.

I hate being stupid. I hate the fact that I ruined all our lives and I just don't care any more.

I hate lying between you two. There's so much animosity in this bed, it chokes me. But I can't move. If I did, I think you two would kill each other. And while I don't care about the either of you, I like what you do to me. Most of the time. So I stay in the middle and wish that something would change and I could stop smothering in all this anger.

I hate that.

I hate the fact that you don't understand, Tristan. The way you believe it'll be better once he's gone. Don't you get that you're hating me when you hate him?

I don't know why he's a part of me--we're so different it's insane--but he is and you can't change that without hurting me very, very much. More than anything you think he's done to me.

You know, he never really did much to me before. No more than what served his plans, like stabbing me in the arm so Malik could get a way into our group. Mostly he just locked me up. But now....

It's like, because I decided to get close to you, he has to mark me. Subtly, because he can tell I'm so sick and tired of stopping you two's fights. He'll dig his hands into me, pressing just hard enough that his nails dent my skin. It only hurts while he's doing it, and they fade a few minutes later. You don't notice, so you two don't fight, but his point is made.

I still hate it, though. I hate feeling like I'm being claimed. I hate that he owns me, and that you want to.

I was thinking things like this when I realized that I don't care about either of you any more. I'm just using you to feel good.

And that's okay. I hate that I've changed, but not what I've changed into. If the both of you want to own me, and I just use you, no one gets hurt, right?

Right. Wrong. I don't remember anymore.

I think what I hate most about having changed is that I remember you used to be worth it. The dents in my skin and his sudden, newest intrusion into my life used to be bearable, because I liked you so much, Tristan. And now....

Now, I guess I hate you. I hate something about this, after all, and I don't care enough to hate myself for very long.

And I don't hate him. I know you do, but...I don't. I can't. After all, sometimes I think he wants to be here even less than I do. You wouldn't believe it, but it's true.

Sometimes, when you're lying on the other side and trying to get your breath back, I can catch a glimpse of his face if he doesn't lean down far enough. I know you can't--his hair hangs down and covers both our faces--but sometimes he looks so...angry. Not his usual anger; he looks almost helpless. Like there's nothing he can do to change whatever it is making him angry.

I hate seeing that look on his face. It's scary. He's not supposed to look like that.

I hate that we have the ability to do that to him. It's just...wrong.

You'd probably be happy about that.

I tense up, jerked out of my thoughts, as soon as I feel hands pulling me away from the middle. "It's me, Ryou," you say lowly.

I know.

I smile anyway, and stretch so your arms aren't clutching at me as much. Like I said, I've gotten very good at covering my unhappiness. I started hiding because I didn't want you to be sad, but now...now I just do it by rote. You don't notice. He doesn't care.

He suddenly runs a hand down my back, making me jolt in surprise, and your arms tighten around me. I feel like I can't breathe. Maybe it's not your fault, but still...I hate this.

I hate what I've become.


	3. Bakura: Left

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to Kazuki Takahashi.

Hn. I'm tired. You two wore me out again.

I hate that.

I hate you. Both of you. You can't possibly understand how much. You can't possibly understand why.

...Perhaps Bakura does. Or guesses. But you, Tristan, you certainly don't. And I have little intention of explaining. Why soften you up before your death?

And I will kill you for this. Don't doubt it. Once I have the Items you'll be gone. Bakura's death will be painful, but quick--he's aided me well enough, after all, and even more so as time goes on. But the same will not be said of you, Tristan. Your death will linger. For as long until I feel merciful, and I assure you that will be a very long time.

I hate you, after all. You and your assumptions. You and what you've forced me into. The extent to which I hate you sickens even me, and I thrive on hate.

If you had a brain above your torso, you would start running. I assure you, you'd prefer a knife in the back far more than the things I have planned if you stay.

But you stay anyway. Because you 'care' for Bakura.

Idiot. A blind man could tell how much your intrusion has deadened him. I can see, and I don't even give a damn. Hmph. And you think I'm the one who hurts him.

Well, you weren't wrong about that. Much. But your arrogance still makes you incorrect.

You assume that Bakura is nothing like me, but you are wrong. We share more than a name, you know. You wouldn't believe me, and I have no intention of telling you, but I used to be kind once. I used to be very like Bakura when I was a child. Until I was shown the true power of the darkness.

But that is none of your business.

Do you begin to grasp my meaning, mortal? Bakura is me. He has every potential to become what I have.

Which is why he had to be broken immediately. I don't need competition from myself.

A few words, a few injuries, and the complete and utter removal of his control, and I had nothing to worry about.

And then you interfered. Though, to be honest, you've done a better job at destroying him than I was. I would never have thought of this method. I had no reason to touch him before you came in. 

Some part of him, I'm sure, is aware of that. Some part of him knows you are to blame.

And yet he doesn't let me throw you out, and he doesn't let me kill you. I'm not certain if it's his apathy or some lingering trace of affection that causes him to continue to protect you. He could make it easier on both of us to get rid of you, or let me do it. I might even treat him well if he did.

But to kill you I would need his permission, and I say that with all the loathing you can imagine. I hate being shackled. But he has the power, because all he has to do is remove the Ring and I'll lack the sufficient energy to materialize. I'm only here because he wants it.

I hate that you don't understand this very simple fact. I may have ordered him to let me appear the first time, but he could always stop me, if he wished to take the consequences. And if he didn't think you would be worth the price of my wrath, he could always end this entire relationship. I would certainly lighten up on him if he did--and he should know this.

After all, the reason I hate you for fucking him is not so much that he's mine as that he's me.

By knowing where his weak spots are, you also have an inkling of mine. And that is all the reason I need to hate you.  The both of you. You've come beneath my defenses with my unwilling consent.

You have no right to know me so well. You have no powers, no Items, no strong connection to the Pharaoh or his brat...you're useless to me. Unworthy. But for a brief time, you interested Bakura, so now you're here. And I'm here. Because I could never allow someone to get so close to an aspect of myself without my control of the situation.

I would never make myself this vulnerable to even Bakura, who, despite all I've done to him, does not wish to lose me.

After all, I'm the only thing constant in his life. I'm the only one who will never leave him unexpectedly.

You have no idea how much favor this means that he gives me. Perhaps if you weren't blind, you would see it. I hate your stupidity, too. What on earth first drew him to you, I'll never understand.

I can see you reach out and draw him closer, and I can sense his dislike. You can too--do you think that whimper was my fault? Is that why you're glaring? Baka.

Not to be out-done, I reach out and stroke his back. The gesture calms him after his original startlement, though I don't know and don't care why. He knows that these hands will kill him some day, but he still relaxes under them quicker than yours.

Do you hate that?

Good.

Pissing you off is the only--small--pleasure that I get from this arrangement. Other than the obvious.

But it doesn't change the fact that you have any kind of power over me, no matter how small. I hate that I was forced into these actions. I hate that he started this in the first place.

_Please, move back_, he asks me. _I can't breathe_.

I rest my hand on his neck and don't move. I can hear him sigh resignedly through our mindlink, though he's careful not to let any audible noise slip out.

I hate him.

I hate you.

I hate what I've become.


End file.
